


all I've got

by 2manyboys



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Masturbation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn with Feelings, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-05
Updated: 2020-08-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25719484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/2manyboys/pseuds/2manyboys
Summary: “I suppose when you dreamed of me I was more obliging?” Nicky asks, still smiling, fighting a laugh.Joe shakes his head, “You were already at my mercy.”“I always am.” Nicky says. The blunt edge of it sticks in Joe’s chest, right next to ‘Eurydice’, up against his heart.(tldr; Joe dreams about riding Nicky, has a lot of feelings, and then makes his dream a reality.)
Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova
Comments: 71
Kudos: 685





	all I've got

**Author's Note:**

> Tried to focus on the sequel to my mission fic, this got finished first. Enjoy? Title from Tenderness by Jay Som though it doubles as a confession. Translations in end note.

It’s been a while since Joe has had a dream that wasn’t about a stranger who would become his family. At least, it’s been a while since he’s had a dream he remembers in the morning. Usually he’s distracted by the simple but blissful feeling of waking with Nicky in his arms. 

This morning he remembers dreaming and Nicky kissing him, telling him to go back to sleep. Joe can hear the teapot whistling, the sounds of people moving around the kitchen downstairs. He keeps his eyes closed, bites his lip, and slides a hand down into his shorts to grip his hard cock, thinking about that dream. 

He’s lazy about it, sleep-warm and breathing in the scent of Nicky all around him. Joe, when he does this without Nicky, usually does it in the shower and fast, driving himself straight to climax and fooling around in the afterglow. He’s thinking about his dream though, thinking about riding Nicky so slow, up and down like ocean waves were carrying him along, playing with the hair at the back of Nicky’s neck, riding him until his thighs ached and burned. So he scratches at his pubic hair and rubs his hand against his cock with nowhere near enough pressure to actually get off, lifting his hips up into it, messing around. He can feel wetness at the tip sticking to the inside of his shorts and shivers at the glide of it on every thrust. 

He hears Andy approach his door, recognizing her tread instinctively, but doesn’t pull his hand away. She knocks and Joe still gently thrusts into it. “Yeah boss?”

She knows him just as well and doesn’t open the door, “Nile and I are going down to the shore for a few days, if you feel like getting your lazy ass up to say goodbye.” 

Joe halts his movements, gives himself a consolation squeeze, and calls, “Give me ten minutes.”

Andy laughs, knocks once on his door again and goes on her way. Joe gets up and goes to the bathroom. He shifts his weight back and forth as he brushes his teeth, trying to distract himself with thoughts of errands that need running and other mundanities, trying not to push his hips forward and grind against the sink. He’d much rather grind against Nicky. That thought, combined with the sleepily belated realization that he and Nicky are about to be alone in the house, has him fishing around in their toiletries for lube. 

When Joe stumbles down the stairs into the kitchen he finds Nile and Andy drinking tea with Nicky. More accurately, they’re holding tea cups while Nicky drinks tea. It’s a sweet gesture. His heart is overflowing with love for them. Joe steps forward and stands between Nile and Andy’s chairs to kiss the top of Andy’s head and then Nile’s too before he lets himself think too much about it. He’s new to this little sister stuff. He smiles hello at Nicky who smiles back, curiosity in his eyes. 

“Sorry for keeping you, I’m having a slow start this morning.” Joe says, “Hope you don’t hit traffic now.”

Nile laughs, shakes her head, and says, “We won’t, we’re taking the motorbike.”

Joe whistles, admiring the choice, and filches Andy’s tea. It’s perfect, if a little colder now than he prefers. Worth it. 

“I was just reminding them to be cautious. Those things crash all the time and Andy can’t walk away from it anymore.” Nicky says, pointing at Andy. Joe can perfectly imagine him wagging that finger and giving them a curfew. Nicky must catch him smirking because he drops his hand, smiling like Joe told the joke out loud. 

“We won’t crash, I have more experience with that vehicle than anyone else alive.” Andy insists. Nicky lifts an eyebrow at Joe who shrugs. They’re all older than the invention but Andy did get one first. Technically she’s right. Nicky accepts this wordless explanation with a short nod, only looking a little soothed. Nile glances between them with an air of amusement, growing used to them communicating with gestures and glances. She seems to enjoy the challenge of decoding them and the promise of centuries to learn how.

After waving them off until the bike disappears down the street, Joe and Nicky step back into the house. Nicky yawns and stretches his hands up over his head, sitting at the kitchen table again. Joe locks the front door behind them and leans back against it, taking a moment to stare. He lets himself get caught looking. Nicky’s wearing a grey T-shirt with a hole near the collar, the wrong size for a bullet hole, and loose black pants Joe thought they got rid of when they left Paris.

“Why did you take so long if you weren’t even getting dressed?” Nicky asks, teasing, looking back. Joe’s wearing sweatpants and Nicky’s shirt from yesterday, both came out of their dirty clothes hamper. 

Joe walks over and sits in Nicky’s lap, settling down on his thighs with a little shiver he can’t contain. It’s not exactly like Nicky’s theory of destiny, but he did dream about this and now he’s making it come true. It’s closer to love than destiny. Nicky’s hands come up automatically to support him, gently gripping his waist and he looks up at Joe with a new question in his eyes, on the verge of a realization. 

“I was hoping you’d say 'yes' to fucking me.” Joe says.

Nicky’s hands squeeze. “Yes.” He says, then, “Right here?”

Joe thinks about it, shifting experimentally, putting his hands on the back of the chair to see if there’s any way to get leverage. All that does is make it explicitly clear what he wants. If they tried they'd probably break the chair.

“ _Oh_ ,” Nicky says, “like that?”

Wondering if he’d assumed Joe meant over the table, Joe laughs and reaches for him, holds his face in both hands, thumbs stroking along his cheekbones. He leans in and kisses his forehead, his nose, his mouth. “Yes, like that. I had the most wonderful dream, my love.”

“About me?” Nicky says, as if he has to ask, chasing another kiss. It lands mostly in Joe’s beard. 

“A dream that isn’t about you isn’t worth having.” Joe tells him softly. 

Those words hang in the air for a moment and then Nicky exhales and says, “I suspect Nile, at least, would object to that.” His hands have wandered from Joe’s waist to his hips, his thighs, the small of his back. 

“My sun, my light, my most beloved. Must you poke holes in my romantic declarations?” Joe asks, laughing. He'll do better than a double-negative next time. He shifts his hips forward, encouraging Nicky’s fingers to dip under the waistband of his sweats. He’s not wearing underwear. 

“I’d rather poke-” Nicky starts to say and then breaks off, swearing elaborately and somewhat archaically. Joe smiles into Nicky’s neck, hiding his face, rolling back against Nicky’s fingers. They’ve discovered the plug. He can’t fully explore because they’re wrapped up together on a kitchen chair, but it’s unmistakable. 

“Bed?” Joe asks, casual. Nicky can only nod, squeezing Joe’s ass once before he pulls his hands away to let him stand up. Joe holds a hand out for him, pulling him up close enough to kiss, keeping it slow, messy. 

Nicky’s hands start sliding lower again. Now that he knows it’s there he wants to play with it. While ordinarily Joe would be thrilled to find himself bent over the kitchen table with Nicky behind him, he has a specific goal in mind right now and he’s just stubborn enough to stick to it in the face of something faster and rougher. Resisting the edge of desperation has its own appeal this morning. 

“Andiamo a letto, Nicolò, ti prego.” Joe says, pressing kisses to his neck, taking both Nicky's hands off his ass and pulling him towards their room. Nicky hums his acceptance, letting go with one hand so Joe can face forwards up the narrow staircase but they still stay tethered. 

“Non dire ‘Eurydice’.” Nicky warns, teasing, pinching Joe’s ass as he clears the last step. 

Joe gasps, which could have been from the pinch but definitely wasn’t. “I wasn't even thinking of it until _you_ said it.” Joe says, choked up by such a casual reference to tragic lovers. Not that their little safehouse kitchen is anything resembling Hades, but he would go there, would go anywhere, to bring Nicky back and- Joe’s train of thought is cut short by Nicky gently crowding him up against the hallway wall, lifting his chin and kissing him, all tenderness. 

“I didn't say it to upset you.” Nicky says, pulling just far enough away that he can meet Joe’s eyes, “Only, I would follow you-“

“You will follow me to bed, right now.” Joe says. His smile is still a little watery but he takes comfort from Nicky’s warmth and devotion as he always does. 

“And anywhere else, for the rest of our time here.” Nicky whispers. He doesn’t mean the house. Nicky presses their foreheads together and they just breathe for a moment. Birds chirp outside. A car drives by. They breathe.

“I have to tell you about my dream.” Joe says eventually, trying to get them back on track. This time Nicky leads him backwards, reaching blindly behind him for the doorknob to their room, his other hand gripping Joe’s shirt collar. “I don’t remember how it started, only that we were kissing.”

“Like this?” Nicky asks, gathering Joe close by the foot of the bed and kissing him just once, soft.

“In my dream you used tongue.” Joe teases. Nicky kisses him again, then bites his lower lip, tangling his fingers in Joe’s hair at the back of his head, holding him where he wants him. Nicky kisses him deeper, sliding their tongues together in a deliberate tease, flicking his against the roof of Joe’s mouth. They haven’t made out like this since Sweden, Joe thinks. He chases Nicky’s mouth for more, thrilling at the wet sounds, holding tight to Nicky’s waist. It’s unhurried, Joe swallows the pleased hums Nicky makes and lets himself be devoured. 

They break away, breathing hard, and Nicky says, “What else?” 

“No clothes.” Joe says, like it should have been obvious. 

Nicky pulls Joe’s shirt off immediately, forcing his arms up, then shoves his own pants and underwear down all at once. Joe tries to help with Nicky’s shirt but gets impatient waiting for him to raise his arms so he kicks his sweats off in the meantime. The motion of that, especially after the odd sensation of climbing the stairs, makes him very aware of the plug. He’s looking forward to pulling it out is all, replacing it with something better. It’s only ever been a stand-in. Nicky’s shirt goes flying and they shift closer together, some instinct to maintain body heat or protect what’s vulnerable.

Nicky’s hands are charting what space remains between them, brushing against the side of his neck, tweaking his nipple, meandering their way down his chest towards his cock, when Joe says, “Also, I was on top of you.” That gets his attention. 

Nicky takes one more step backwards away from him and holds out a hand. Joe takes it and they climb up onto the bed together with deliberate slowness, holding eye contact. Joe climbs over Nicky and settles against him, pressing him down into the unmade bed with his body weight. Nicky leans up to kiss him, with tongue again, clearly devoted to the role of his dream self, and grabs Joe’s ass in both hands. 

Joe loses track of the plan for a while, lost in the sensation of Nicky’s undivided attention, his body. It’s all he can do to not completely crush Nicky as they kiss like they don’t need air and Nicky’s grip on his ass encourages him to rub their cocks together in uncoordinated thrusts. It feels so good to just mess around with him. He’s thinking about nothing and no one else, only Nicky, only the passion he inspires. Then Nicky taps at the base of the plug in Joe’s ass and all of a sudden he remembers the dream.

Joe tears his mouth away from Nicky’s, panting through a plea, “Take it out.”

Nicky’s fingers keep teasing, applying pressure and rubbing around the base of it. Nicky is watching Joe’s face, probably to gauge his exact reaction when he tugs the plug out a little, twists, and shoves it back in. Joe inhales shakily and groans on the exhale. It’s possible he was a little hasty getting it in earlier, reckless with the perks of immortality, but he hadn’t let himself really enjoy it. He definitely had not aimed it directly at his prostate the way Nicky is. 

“Was this in your dream?” Nicky asks, conversational, like he isn’t making Joe shake and whine. Like he isn’t proving his expert knowledge of Joe’s body with every motion. 

“No.” Joe says, too soft to be audible. He clears his throat, rubbing against Nicky mindlessly, and tries again, “No, it’s the reason I took so long. I wanted to be able to sit on your cock right away.”

Nicky keeps playing with him, fucking him with the toy, but he hums a pleased noise at the thought. Joe shifts forward, spreading his thighs to straddle Nicky properly, and plants both hands on Nicky’s chest. Nicky is smiling, big and goofy the way he does when he gets a little tipsy and Joe asks him to dance. There’s something wicked in his expression too, a flirtatious glint in his eye that Joe can only categorize as _I’ve got you right where I want you_. They’re on the same page then.

“Take it out.” Joe says again. 

“I suppose when you dreamed of me I was more obliging?” Nicky asks, still smiling, fighting a laugh.

Joe shakes his head, “You were already at my mercy.”

“I always am.” Nicky says. The blunt edge of it sticks in Joe’s chest, right next to ‘Eurydice’, up against his heart. Nicky pulls the plug out, slow, laughing with breathless satisfaction when Joe moves to get on his cock immediately. 

Nicky just watches Joe rise up to fuck himself on it, too busy examining the plug to help. It’s hot pink, larger than he expected, warm from Joe’s body. He slicks his hand with the lube on it and reaches down to where Joe’s got a hand around him and to coat his cock with it. Joe cannot believe any of this is happening in real life, nevermind that they rarely do anything for the first time anymore, it’s so fucking hot all his stomach muscles clench up on a groan. With Nicky helping, or possibly slowing him down, maybe both, Joe manages to relax and drops his head as he pushes down on Nicky’s cock by inches.

Joe doesn’t realize he’s biting his lip until Nicky drops the plug on the bed and touches his mouth. He releases it, knowing that now his mouth is hanging open slightly as he finally _finally_ sits fully, bottoming out, victorious. 

“Tutto bene?” Nicky checks, hands at Joe’s hips. He’s gone pink all down his neck and chest, blushing like a sunburn, eyes dark and flicking between Joe’s face and his cock. There’s a low level tension in him, holding still, maintaining focus. 

“Si, cuore mio.” Joe says, rolling his shoulders, shifting his weight nice and slow. "Grazie."

“Don’t thank me yet.” Nicky replies, “What about the rest of your dream?” 

Joe rolls his hips forward slowly, drinking in the sight of Nicky below him, and drops back down on him with equal control, clenching just to feel Nicky’s hands squeeze back. He laughs softly and does it faster, making his own cock slap against his stomach. “Mm, this is it, habibi. _You’re_ it. Get comfortable.” 

Nicky collapses back against the bed, groaning theatrically and throwing his arms wide. If Joe wants to use him like this he’s going to do his best to let Joe have him for as long as he wants. Joe grinds against him like he can’t get him deep enough. Only when Nicky looks away from Joe’s dripping cock to meet his eyes again does Joe go back to riding him properly, rewarding his attention. 

“I want to kiss you but I don’t want to break your concentration.” Nicky teases, shifting to brace his heels, thrusting up with Joe’s rhythm. The easy way he matches it speaks of years of practice, an intimacy all their own. It ratchets up Joe’s arousal from a simmering thing, a constant since before waking up this morning, to something molten. Their movements get louder, lewder. They never closed the bedroom door, if someone came into the house right now they’d probably hear it, unmistakable, all sex. “I see you’re dreaming too deeply for that.” Nicky adds in the same tone, watching all of that float across Joe’s face, watching his cock again.

Joe stretches forward, hands sliding up Nicky’s chest and around his shoulders, pulling him closer. Nicky follows his lead, leaning up far enough to kiss. The rhythm stutters and falls apart as Nicky focuses more on fucking Joe’s mouth with his tongue than literally fucking him. Joe’s attention splits between grinding into Nicky and back onto him, spoiled for choice. 

They’re not racing towards climax but they’re circling it, they have been since the kitchen, or at least since getting on the bed. Joe kisses Nicky one last time, emphatic, and sits back up with renewed purpose. He tries to remember exactly how it was in his dream, closes his eyes and only grasps at the mood of it, all the details are being replaced by the real experience. The ocean waves of endless gentle pleasure are echoing in every roll of Joe’s hips, a palimpsest, a memory. Joe isn’t saying this out loud but Nicky groans like he is, like riding him this slow might as well be another romantic declaration, a double negative when Nicky wants the statement. Maybe it is. Only dreams with Nicky are worth having.

Nicky plants his feet and thrusts up hard, derailing Joe’s train of thought by pushing a breathy, “Ah!” out of him. His hands are back on Joe’s waist, hot, pulling him down onto Nicky’s cock, trying to get deeper. He’s watching Joe, chewing on the inside of his cheek, upping the tempo but still hanging onto a thread of control. Joe knows why; Nicky wants to follow him over, wants him to go first. 

His dream never got this far but Joe can guess what would have happened, knows what he would do. “Nicolò, your hand? Please Nicky, I want-“

“I know what you want.” Nicky says, vows. He’s been waiting for Joe to ask, they both groan at the first squeeze of his fingers around Joe’s cock. His thumb rubs at the wet head of it, encouraging, using it to ease the glide. They speed up. Joe can feel his heart racing. He leans back and holds tight to Nicky’s legs, breathing hard, riding him with increasingly shaky legs, fucking up into his fist. 

Nicky must know he’s close because he starts talking, a soft and tender murmur that nobody else will ever hear, “Joe, Yusuf, love of my life, you are a dream. Go on, go ahead, I’m right behind you, I have you. You’re so hot, riding me, taking me so deep. Your thighs, Yusuf, your _ah_ \- you’re so _tight_ -“ 

Joe comes with a punched out groan, maintaining his shaking rhythm and watching it splatter across Nicky’s chest, fucking it into Nicky’s hand until he’s oversensitized and softening. Nicky puts his hand back on Joe’s hip and pulls him down hard, bouncing Joe on his cock with a string of “-so fucking hot Joe so fucking hot I want to come in you so bad I want-” that he may not even be aware he’s saying out loud. Each of his desperate thrusts reverberates through Joe’s body, making his dick twitch like it wants to go again just because Nicky’s talking dirty and hitting his prostate occasionally, he’s not even trying but his body knows Joe’s. 

Joe is about to offer to flip, let Nicky fuck him into the mattress, since he can’t seem to lift himself as much as Nicky wants. He’s floating on the feeling of Nicky at his mercy and the warm sweaty satisfaction of climax, but needs Nicky to follow like he needs air to breathe. Before he can say it, Nicky goes tense all over and inhales sharply like he’s holding his breath, pulls Joe down hard against him, and breathes out a sound like a sob. He comes hard, filling Joe up, grinding in and thrusting up into him a few more times, reflexively milking himself. Joe clenches up, making Nicky groan and pulse again, fingers pressing bruises into his hips.

Joe collapses by degrees after Nicky’s cock slides out of him, shivering at the feeling, imagining what it must look like. All of his limbs feel boneless, floating on an afterglow that suffuses his body like sunshine. Nicky gets an arm around him, tucking him close to his side so he won’t risk falling off the bed. That’s happened once or twice, they don’t always have the luxury of a king like this. Nicky’s face presses into his hair, breathing him in, kissing his curls, muttering half-coherent endearments. His other hand strokes up and down Joe’s thigh, warm and grounding. It slows as Joe’s breathing evens out, as he cuddles closer, until Nicky’s just holding him. 

Into the peaceful silence of the morning, Joe’s stomach growls. They both laugh.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Translations** (feel free to correct me!)  
> Andiamo a letto, Nicolò, ti prego. - Let's go to bed, Nicolò, please.  
> Non dire ‘Eurydice’. - Don't say 'Eurydice'.  
> Tutto bene? - All good?  
> Si, cuore mio. Grazie. - Yes, my heart. Thank you.  
> Habibi - Beloved
> 
> p.s. Thanks to herocomplex for the beta, maybe next time they'll break a chair just for you


End file.
